


Late Night Feature

by theladyinthecape



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, My First Smut, Rumbelle Secret Santa 2015, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyinthecape/pseuds/theladyinthecape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle is inspired while watching "The Rocky Horror Picture Show."</p>
<p>Based on the prompt "late night double feature picture show."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Feature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizandletdie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/gifts).



> A Rumbelle Secret Santa gift for lizandletdie.

Gold will never understand this land without magic. 

He shuts the door as a group of small children run away, giggling and yelling “Happy Halloween” back to him. Children, begging for candy, on such an evening? All Hallow’s Eve should be reverent, the thought, even intimidating to those who didn’t understand it. As it were, though, he placed full size candy bars in each child’s bag before bidding them goodbye. 

Sighing to himself, he turns to walk back into the great room to join his wife. 

“Belle, dear, what are you watching?”

Gold walks up behind the couch where Belle lounges, squinting his eyes at the television screen across the room.

“It’s Rocky Horror Picture Show, Rumple. Haven’t you seen it?”

Rumple smirks and looks down at her, wondering when and where she would have seen such a movie. His Belle - always full of surprises.

“No, sweetheart, I haven’t seen many movies,” he replies, sweetly, reminded that the remarkable woman below him only ever saw him as just an ordinary man. “What is it about?” He asks, glancing again at the screen and scowling at the scantily clad group of characters singing and dancing.

“Well,” Belle giggles, reaching up to tug on his tie, “it’s about a sweet transvestite from Transexual Transylvania…” 

“What?” 

Belle laughs at Rumple’s confusion. “It’s a musical, a comedy. It’s actually very good and millions of people love it. It’s considered a cult classic, and people everywhere dress up to attend the movie at midnight showings still,” she explained, amused that the Dark One would find any habit of mere mortals surprising.

“You've done your research.”

“Join me?”

Gold, not surprised…but more or less intrigued by what he is seeing onscreen and completely astounded that his sweet wife seems to be enjoying it, eases around the arm of the couch and sits at the end opposite Belle, and pulls her feet into his lap. Belle smiles, wondering to herself if anyone would believe the amazing foot massage she often receives from the Dark One. 

“That doesn’t look like the Transylvania I know,” he begins, and Belle nudges his thigh with her toe.

“Stop, Rumple. Suspend your disbelief for a moment,” she teases, her blue eyes sparkling in the glare from the television. “Relax, and enjoy. Dr. Frankenfurter requires your pleasure…”

Belle words turn to squeals as he begins tickling her feet, distracting her from her train of thought. As his tickets turn to longer, deeper strokes along her instep, Belle realizes he is watching the screen more intently.

“Actually Rumple, I find him very attractive…” she begins, and Rumple’s head snaps to look at her.

“Really, dearie? Or are you simply attracted to the shoes?” he chides, but his eyes betray him. Gold is more intrigued than confused at his wife’s declaration that she found the cross-dressing character attractive. His hand trails up her ankle slightly, as just the suggestion of Belle being attracted to someone - even a fictional character - calls forth the the monster - his possessive side.

“Sexuality is attractive, confidence is attractive…” Belle sits up more, pulling back her legs.

“Is that so?” Rumple asks, the movie forgotten as his beauty scoots closer to him.

“That is so.” Belle is next to him now, looking him straight in the eye, conveying more with her dilated pupils than any words possibly could. “Rumple…”

Belle begins to trail a fingertip around the outside edge of his ear and Rumple’s eyes flutter as her touch ignites the sparks within his core.

“Would you do something for me?”

Rumple attempts to clear his throat but it comes out as a gargle; he suspects he knows the favor she is wanting, and for a moment he forgets himself.

“You know I would do anything for you, Belle,” he begins, anxiously, hoping against hope that he doesn’t already know what she wants, aroused by her proximity and her own situational arousal, and always, always afraid that he will disappoint. 

“Would you dress up for me?”

“Belle - I - what?”

“Please, Rumple! I want to see you look like that,” she says, slightly glancing over her shoulder towards the tv. Belle moves to stand from the couch, scooting in between his knees and dropping to her own between his legs. Her hands on his thighs, she squeezes lightly, if only to feel him underneath her, and in the hopes of reassuring her husband.

“I don’t have anything like that,” Rumple whines, hoping to break the spell she is casting over him, the potion of lust and love that she mixes every time, the one where he is supplicant to her, and can never tell her no.

Belle giggles, knowing that she has won, and runs her hands up his thighs to the crease of his hips, squeezing at the joint out of sheer excitement.

 

Belle opens the top drawer of her lingerie armoire and fingers the silky fabrics of the many bodices, negligees and nighties that her true love keeps well stocked for her. He worshipped his Beauty, and his desire to keep her in the finer things made Belle’s heart melt with every new gift. Selecting a black corset, Belle smiles to herself as she opens the lower drawer to pull out some black silk boyshort panties. 

Her heart starts to race as she thinks of what they are about to do; she is all nerves and desire and excitement. Stripping her own clothes and leaving them on a pile at her feet, Belle hurries, not wanting to give her husband the chance to change his mind. The Dark One may have seen many things, done many things - but he was vulnerable now and she knew it. The trust he was placing in her was humbling.

Belle strides into the room, attempting to calm herself and appear nonchalant. She walks in front of him, looking down at first but allowing her eyes to run up his body. Damn, this man can wear a suit, she thinks, her internal dialogue guiding her movements. 

Mr. Gold stands, his cane held in a death grip in front of him, frozen by the sight of his wife, naked, her skin glowing sliver in the glare of the television, her brown curls flowing about her shoulders. She was amazing, and he could live another 300 years and never comprehend what she saw in him. 

Gently, Belle places her hands over his and eases the cane away from him. Eyes locked to each other the trust flowed between them wordlessly, Belle reassuring and Rumple devoted.

“I love you, Rumplestiltskin,” Belle says softly, her words full of lust and love and something… more, as she quietly drops to her knees in front of him. Running her hands up his outer thighs, she feels the warm harness of him, the wiry muscles and tanned flesh under the layer of fine wool of his trousers. Bringing her hands up, she begins working his belt buckle, and slides his underwear and suit pants down quickly, as if she were afraid he would run given the chance. 

Gently coaxing his feet out of the clothing, she pushes it aside and rises to her feet. Gazing into his eyes, she hesitates a bit at what she sees.

“Is this okay, my husband?” Belle pulls back for a moment, realizing how he may be wary of the situation. They had never really talked about his year imprisoned by Zelena, but she knew it was not pleasant. She had been too afraid to ask about the details, but she knew he had been subjected to unspeakable acts. 

Rumple’s eyes softened as she spoke, the mere fact that she asked made all the difference to him. “Yes, sweetheart. This is okay,” he said, bringing one hand to stroke her cheek. 

she loosens the laces and kneels before him, urging him to step into the garment, and he leans on his cane as he steps one foot in at a time - hesitant, but willing. Slowly, carefully, Belle rises from her knees and drags the silky corset up Rumple’s legs, the fabric ghosting over his skin. She can see the gooseflesh rising on his upper thighs and as she pulls the corset higher it brushes against the tip of his hardening cock.

She settles the corset on his torso, making sure it is properly placed for perfect function and beauty. Satisfied, she moves behind him and begins to tighten the laces, starting from the top.

“You’ll tell me, Rumple, if I pull too tight?”

He can’t answer, not really, as his head does not contain one coherent thought, but he assures her as best he can.

“Yes. Belle,” he sighs, so quietly she hears his breath more than his words.

Belle pauses for a moment, holding the top laces taut, and peers around his shoulder. His head is lowered, eyes closed, and she searches his profile for any hint of duress. Finding none, she feels a warm rush of love and lust as she realizes the power she holds over this magnificent man in this moment. He is hers, all hers, to do with as she pleases. 

“I love you Rumple. I want to show you how much. I want to show you how beautiful you are to me. Do you trust me?”

The question held so much more than the feelings of this moment - trust between them had never felt quite like it had in the past week, after Emma and Merida had tested their bond and his courage.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said again, his brogue thick and his voice low, but confident. He was completely vulnerable, but he had never been stronger in their love than in this moment. The realization of this sent a wave of desire and love through Belle, a pool of lava seeping into every cell of her core, and she couldn’t help the tears that began to pool in her eyes. Not wanting him to get the wrong idea, not now, not when he was submitting himself to her so fully, she held the emotions back and retreated into the lust that was beginning to overtake her.

“Good.” Belle tugged at the laces as she praised him, “That’s good, Rumple.” Her fingers moved down a notch on the corset and tugged those laces tighter, and she worked her way down his back, tugging and pulling the corset tight against his searing flesh. 

Belle was working down to the waist of the bodice, and she noticed Rumple’s breathing go shallow as the corset squeezed the softer flesh below his ribs. Emboldened by his response, and more by his complete willingness to submit to her, she pulled the last of the laces as tightly as she could, tugging him back until she could feel the smooth skin of his ass brush against his lower abdomen. Without thinking, she wrapped one arm around him to steady him, hold him close, the pressure of his backside against her belly stoking the fire within her even more.

Her hand pressed lightly into his hip to steady him, and as she began to caress his hip her had brushed against his erection, full and hard and moist. The head was glistening, his cock bobbing and twitching. He was thoroughly turned on by this. 

Gently, she swiped her fingers over the head of his cock.

“Aaah, Belle, sweetheart,” Rumple hissed as electricity flowed from her fingers through his sensitive flesh. He was on fire, every fibre of his being aware of what his true love was doing to him. 

“Yes, baby?” Belle replied, smiling secretly into his back, knowing exactly what she was doing and wanting him to want more. 

“Please, Belle...”

“Please, what, my husband?” Belle removed her hand and swiftly slipped two fingers between her thighs, into her dripping wet folds, and gathered her own moisture in her hand before returning to her ministrations.

“Oh GODS, ah!” Belle had gripped his steeled shaft and began pumping the elastic flesh with slippery fingers.

Rumple thrust his hips forward and Belle loosened her grip, not wanting to take things too far; not yet, she was enjoying this too much. She slowly released him, tying off the laces of the corset, and moved to his front, close, but not touching, and looked deeply into his eyes. She could see his soul in the light reflected in the dark amber of his irises; she could see every emotion, every thought, and she had never felt more present than she did in this moment. Nothing else existed right now: no curses, no swords, no spells... just the two of them, these perfectly imperfect souls that somehow found each other despite the universe’s best efforts.

Kneeling back down to the floor, Belle picked up the panties she had brought out. They were black silk, just like the corset, and boycut with wide stretches of fabric on the hips. Belle bit her lip so the giggle she couldn’t suppress wouldn’t be heard.

Plenty of support for his rather large estate, she thought, and her mind flashed to the moment he first spoke those words, realizing that she wasn’t surprised in the slightest that they were here, now, together; they had made it to this point and it was amazing.

Belle tapped Rumple’s ankle to urge him to step into the leg of the panties.

“Belle, I don’t...”

“Shhh Rumple. Yes, baby, please. This will feel so good, I promise...” Belle pleaded, looking up at him with her piercing blue eyes, darkened with desire but clear as crystal; their pupils locked, and the trust flowed wordlessly between them. 

She rose and pulled the panties up with her, gently spreading his legs apart with her knee, and stretched the fabric over his hips, catching his engorged cock with one hand as she positioned the silk around his sack, not wanting to pinch the tender flesh. 

Finally, the garment was in place, and Belle smoothed her tiny hands over the silk, sliding them behind him to cup his ass over the fabric. She pressed against him and she could feel the boning of the corset against her breasts, the cool silk of the lingerie against her heated flesh, and his thick, hard length trapped behind slippery fabric, pressing against her belly.

She tilted her head up and planted her lips against his, a sticky kiss against hot, moist lips, and it would have been chaste but for the promise it held. 

“I love you, Rumple. You are so beautiful,” she sighed, stepping back to take in the whole sight of him. 

He is gorgeous, she thought, my man. He stood perfectly still, frozen not by fear but by mind-numbing desire, both hands gripping his cane, leaning all of his weight forward, his body tensed to the limit, as if one slightest movement would make him explode.

Belle turned them around so that she was facing the bed, in front of him, and the dark purple duvet brushed the back of his knees. Slowly, Belle took his cane and leaned it against the footboard before returning her gaze to his soft brown eyes which were alight with arousal. 

“Gods, you are so fucking hot,” Belle purred, watching him watch her, as she brought one hand up to cup her own breast, kneading it from the side and then punching her nipple. Sighing as she did so, her hand trailed down her belly to her sex, gently poking a finger through the apex of her folds and rubbing, teasing herself and finding herself dripping wet. Rumplestiltskin was overwhelmed.

The tightness of the corset was enough, to be sure, to heighten every sense he had. But the snug fit of the panties was pushing him further than he felt he could handle. The soft support of the fabric felt like a caress to his most sensitive flesh, squeezing him so lightly but also so completely. 

Rumple was drunk on desire and wearing Belle’s lingerie. 

“Fuck,” he sighed. 

Dropping to her knees, Belle held his gaze, and reached out to trail her fingertips down the corset, feeling the silk warm beneath her fingers.

Their gazes locked, Belle brought her head toward the panties, and Rumple whimpered.

“Belle, sweetheart…”

Rumple’s voice was no more than a strangled whisper, and Belle shivered as she realized she alone could reduce the Dark One to mumbling one-word sentences. She smiled as she began to nuzzle against the panties; her nose trailing up his impossibly hard cock and her breath hot against the silk.

“You’re hot Rumple. I love seeing you like this - this is all for me. Only for me.”

“Yes, Belle, only for you...” Rumple’s eyes fell shut as he felt her face against his crotch.

Glancing back up at her true love, her truly wrecked love, Belle pulled the front of the panties down and eased his cock out of the panties, tucking the fabric behind his sack which provided a thrilling pressure to his perineum. Keeping his throbbing shaft in hand, Belle lightly kissed the tip, licking her lips between each tiny kiss, adding to the moisture beginning to bead. 

Lightening travelled through his veins as Belle took the head of his cock into her warm, wet mouth. God, this woman, he thought, as shivers of lust and love pebbled his flesh and made him gasp for air. The corset was tight and constricted his breath some, heightening every sense and emptying his mind of everything except what his Belle was doing to his cock. The pressure of the panties stretched against his perineum gave him the sensation of his cock continuing to grow in her mouth, and he felt more aroused than he ever had in 300 years. 

Forcing himself to open his eyes, he watched as Belle worked his cock into her mouth, adding more to her take with every bob of her head. He began to feel the tip rubbing against the back of her throat and - oh FUCK - she wasn’t stopping.

“Fuck - Belle, aaah” Gold groaned as his balls started to draw up into his body, and Belle’s eyes flashed up to meet his cloudy, hazy gaze. Not ready to end her little game so soon, she moved back, releasing him with a quiet pop and stood. The cool air brushing over his wet flesh allowed Rumple to gain a second of control, before Belle crashed her lips to his in sloppy, drooly kiss. 

“Sit down, Rumple,” she ordered, and as he sat and scooted back enough that he wasn’t in danger of falling, Belle slowly pulled the panties down all the way, kneeling to remove them from his feet. Climbing to straddle him on the bed, she brushed the black silk against her cheek and smiled.

“Rumple, they smell like you,” she said, quietly, seductively, and the thought of her smelling his essence on her lingerie caused his cock to twitch, and he brought his hand down to stroke himself. Belle was kneeling on his thighs, and she watched as he took himself in hand, desperate for release.

“Do you like this, baby, dressing up for me?” Belle’s own arousal was evident on his upper thighs, and she started rolling her hips slightly, slowly, her wetness spreading over him and the sensation of her clit slipping against his skin stoking her fire even more.

“I love seeing you like this, I love your willingness to do this, that you want to please me.” Belle’s head fell back as her confessional worked her up, she was lost in the pleasure of proclaiming her desire, and of grinding herself against her lover. She felt more alive and aroused that she thought possible, and brought a hand down to rub her clit, need beginning to overtake her.

Rumple watched Belle as she succumbed to the need for stimulation, he felt her wetness coating his skin and fuck - there was nothing more beautiful and desirable than his Belle at the height of passion. Stopping his own masturbation, he reached to swipe one finger between her folds, bumping her own hand out of the way and gathering her warm fluid into his palm. Returning to his cock, he trailed her wetness down his shaft, and as Belle watched, he pointed the head of his cock down slightly to tease her outer labia. 

Belle rose up slightly and shimmed up his thighs until she was straddling his hips, and Rumple began to rub the tip up and down against her slit, teasing her clit with each swipe. He could hear Belle’s gasps, and while his need was great, his first concern was hers. 

His eyes bored into her, and he could see himself through her - he saw all the love, all the desire - as if they weren’t two people, but the same being split between two bodies. He loved how connected they were, and if he lived another 300 years, he would never know a love like he had with her. 

Belle sank onto him with a sigh, leaning back slightly and beginning to rock herself against him. She was full of him - complete - and the thought alone brought her to the edge. She leaned forward, searching for just the right angle, just the right friction, her hands by Rumple’s head and her eyes closed. 

 

Suddenly, Rumple bucked his hips up, shifting her forward, and his hands swept up her thighs to cup her warm, round ass. His hips began pumping up into her, and Belle had to brace herself to keep from falling forward, as Gold fucked her from below. Belles eyes flew open and locked with his; the devilish grin and seductive gaze was all it took, and she began a low, soft scream as the ecstasy overtook her. 

Mr. Gold felt her clench around him, and followed with a low, breathless grunt, the corset preventing him from taking full breaths, leaving him light headed and completely spent.

Belle gently lowers herself to rest on his chest, their bodies damp with perspiration from the effort of lovemaking, cooling in the still air of the room. They slip apart, Gold remaining on his back, as Belle moves to her side and props herself up on her elbow. She draws her fingers through his hair lazily, gazing down at her lover with a smile. 

Mr. Gold opens one eye to see her smiling down on him, and breaks into a sheepish smile of his own. The corset was becoming uncomfortable, and he was aching to take a full breath, but seeing how happy he could make his wife was worth the price of his comfort a million times over.

“You are going to have to help me, sweetheart. I don’t quite have the strength left,” he smiles at her, looking sated, and tired, and full of bliss.

Belle giggles and pushes his shoulder to nudge him onto his side, facing away from her, and begins to loosen the laces of the corset. Gold draws a full breath, relieved to be able to fill his lungs and the rush of oxygen to his head leaves him dizzy, and he collapses against the back of the couch.

“All these people in this town think I’m the devious one,” he says as he smiles at Belle, her long curls falling onto her shoulders, the dark chestnut of her hair in stark contrast to her pale skin. She is a nymph, he believes now more than ever, irresistible and insatiable,a smirk forming at his lips. He would surely believe that, were it not for the fact that someone who could see the good in him could only be pure of heart herself.


End file.
